


I'm Ghost Proof, Baby!

by invective



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Haunted Houses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invective/pseuds/invective
Summary: Kris has what Junmyeon likes to call a "frontal lobe issue."





	I'm Ghost Proof, Baby!

**Author's Note:**

> If it seems rushed, it's because it is :') Hope the prompter enjoys!
> 
> (Prompt #73)

Junmyeon feels pretty proud of the fact that he’s a homeowner at twenty-eight. He’s not living the most typical lifestyle. When his parents were his age, they were already expecting his older brother. Then again, property values in Los Angeles weren’t as exorbitantly high as they are now. Rodney King riots and whatnot notwithstanding, of course. Junmyeon also isn’t a shopkeeper racially profiling innocent customers, either. Just to widen the gap between himself and his parents, who also don’t really understand his job as UpVote’s politics editor. They understand Kris’s occupation (“social media influencer,” his Instagram bio proudly reads) even less. But their comprehension doesn’t matter. Junmyeon and Kris are happy. That’s all he really cares about.

And now they’re taking the next big step together — purchasing a home. Their bank accounts may be practically empty from this joint venture, but that’s just the (terrible) state of the world. With any luck, Kris’s next Burberry or Bvlgari endorsement will bring them back to any semblance of normalcy. At the core of it all, it’s an accomplishment. Millenials can only _dream_ of owning a house, let alone one as amazing as the one they’ve just purchased.

Though old (“Vintage,” Kris supplies), it’s kind of great. On top of a hill overlooking northeast Los Angeles, there were five bedrooms and two bathrooms and a whole 70s love pit — in the form of an entire subterranean floor. “A sex dungeon!” Kris had blurted, likely traumatizing their real estate agent. Sure, the little ‘body hiding cubby’ in the master bedroom’s walk-in closet was a little… questionable, but they could totally save some money on a murder house anyway.

Kris was most excited about their backyard, featuring a basketball court and a _fantastic_ view. It was the upper end of their budget (upper-est. The maximum — that’s the word he was looking for.), but it seemed incredibly worth it.

Thus, Junmyeon has plenty reason to be proud.

There’s something… _off_ , though, about their home. Something’s different; something wasn’t there the several times they’d visited. It gives Junmyeon goosebumps as he sets the last of their boxes in their bedroom, Kris already having gone to return the moving van. The two-story house is quiet — almost too quiet. Junmyeon is the only person inside. It’s late morning, and the people at the bottom of the hill are enjoying the last vestiges of sun before winter (which does not exist in Southern California) arrives. It seemed a lot livelier before they purchased the house. But maybe that’s because it doesn’t resemble a catalog anymore. It’s up to him and Kris to make it feel lived in again.

It’s a heartwarming thought, and Junmyeon’s half-way done imagining a future with them and their two adoptive children playing in the backyard when a creaking floorboard tears him out of his fantasy.

He’s still the only one in the house.

“H-hello?” Junmyeon calls, like an idiot. Would a home intruder announce their presence? _Hello! I’m here to rob you blind and possibly kill you — don’t mind me!_ Honestly, what a dumbass.

Predictably, he gets no response.

“I have a gun!” he shouts. Immediately, he cringes. Why does he say things? He should stop. For everyone’s sake. Junmyeon’s mind is kind of in the right place, though. He ought to arm himself. Digging around in the boxes already opened, Junmyeon’s forced to take the only feasible weapon, a Japanese short sword Kris drunkenly acquired when he ended up on the ‘Ninja Section of Amazon.’ He has no idea how to use it — or if it’s even sharp enough to be of any use — but stabbing people really shouldn’t be that difficult, right?

Conveniently forgetting every horror movie he’s ever seen (or heard-while-cowering-behind-his-companions, as the case may be), Junmyeon leaves the safety of his bedroom to confront his potential burglar with a ninja sword. “I’m warning you… I’m gonna beat the shit outta you,” Junmyeon shouts. “I’m ripped as fuck! I’m so fucking shredded, I might as well be cheese!”

Yup. Shutting up now. Forever.

His eyes dart around as the floorboards groan again. The sound seems to be coming from the living room, and he stalks toward it as quietly as he can muster. Glass starts to rattle — the picture frames sitting on the mantle and the few mugs he left sitting on the kitchen counter — which effectively makes Junmyeon jump out of his skin. Holy fuck. It’s a ghost. Where is he, the earthquake capital of North America? Dangerously close to the San Andreas fault? That’s _logic_ speaking. Logic should shut the fuck up. There’s a _spirit_ in his brand new 1971 house.

“I’m gonna die,” Junmyeon sighs softly. “I can’t believe my short, gay life is over.”

The rattling stops, the air turning warmer and warmer until something solid pokes his waist and Junmyeon screams unattractively, whirling around with the sword held aloft.

“Jesus Christ!” Junmyeon shrieks just as Kris yells “Blah!”

Junmyeon’s eyes are manically wide as his boyfriend shouts at least eight lines of Kesha’s _Blah Blah Blah_ at him. Kris’s arms are still raised in surrender, chest heaving. Junmyeon can only imagine he looks just as ridiculous.

  
“Padlocks don’t zip,” he gasps instead of the twenty other things he wanted to say. He throws a look out the open front door and sees Kris’s Uber driver staring at them with concern. He forces a smile onto his face and offers a poor guy a half-hearted thumbs up. “We’re fine!” Junmyeon chirps, obviously _not_ fine. “Thanks for the ride! you can go now. He’ll tip you extra!”

Kris runs a hand over his face as the gray Corolla speeds off. “What the _fuck_ was that, Junmyeon?” He flops onto their plastic-covered couch unceremoniously. “Were you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?” Kris grabs the sword from Junmyeon and cradles it to his chest. “You didn’t even unsheathe the thing, dummy. But I guess that’s a good thing because you could’ve _killed_ me.”

“What the fuck were _you_ doing, Kevin?” Junmyeon retorts. “Did you not see me with the sword?” He blinks, then grasps the other’s arm. “Did you see the ghost? The devil’s at work here and he was taunting me.” Kris refuses to let go of the sword when Junmyeon tugs on it, instead staring at the shorter as if he’s grown another head.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Kris says slowly. “They don’t exist, ‘Myeon.” Standing up, he tosses the sword haphazardly and probes Junmyeon’s cranium with his stupidly large hands. Almost like a monkey searching for bugs to snack on, Kris turns Junmyeon’s head every which way and come through his hair. “Did you fall and hit your head, babe? Are you okay? Inhaled too much dust?”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” protests Junmyeon, slapping Kris’s hands away. He’s always wavered between superstition and skepticism, often erring on the side of caution just in case there really _were_ things on the Other Side. Clearly, he hadn’t been careful enough, as his home was also housing a malevolent demon thing that liked to walk and shake glass around. He wasn’t too familiar with the supernatural, but he knew a threat when he saw one. “I know what I saw. And felt. And heard. I _know_ , Kris.”

Kris rolls his eyes, annoying and exaggerated. “Well, if there _is_ a demon,” he says, squeezing Junmyeon’s shoulders, “I’ll protect you. It’s not like we can leave, right? We’ll deal with it. We deal with everything.” Junmyeon sighs as Kris presses a kiss to his forehead, sinking into the taller’s arms. He doesn’t believe Kris “ _Please_ , I _cannot_ deal with bugs!” Wu will do anything of the sort, but the sentiment is nice. He wishes he had Kris’s confidence. It must really be wonderful to not fear being dragged to hell.

The cutesy shit that follows — pet names, quick pecks, and the little water fight in the middle of doing the dishes — must make the demon cringe back into the hole it came from because the rest of their day remains mostly uneventful. Key word being _mostly_.

…

“Are you _vlogging_?”

Kris looks adorable (he always does), tongue sticking out as he arranges the camera sitting on the kitchen island. “No, I’m gathering evidence of your ghost cat.”

  
“It’s a _demon_ , Kris. D-E-M-O-N.”

“It knocks things over, ‘Myeon. It’s a ghost cat.” Kris is mocking him, and it’s annoying, but Junmyeon agrees with setting up cameras. Kris might not expect anything to show up on the footage, but once Junmyeon gets irrefutable evidence of the supernatural, he’ll be sorry. Kris has placed a camera in every room, though the demon only really terrorized the living room, guest bathroom, and kitchen. “Just to be sure,” Kris says with a wink, “because you never know — he might get tired of knocking toothpaste and gluten-free bread over. Unless, of course, you’re more willing now to acknowledge the role of physics and gravity in everyday life.” He laughs as Junmyeon pouts. Junmyeon hates that it’s music to his ears.

“Watch, one day it’s going to fling you into a wall,” Junmyeon hisses, “and you’ll wish you were nicer to the demonic entity dwelling within our home.”

“Wouldn’t we technically be in _its_ home? Like, wasn’t it here before us?”

“How would I know? I don’t _talk_ to it. You don’t talk to demons. That’s how you invite them in!”

Kris raises his hands in surrender. “Okay! I’m sorry! Just Vatican illiterate, I guess.” Probably why he was so unimpressed with the Met Gala beyond an appreciative whistle directed at Chadwick Boseman. He sidesteps Junmyeon, plucking the tripod from where it sits on the dining table and fidgets with his camera settings. Oh, so _now_ he’s vlogging.

Sometimes, it’s a problem. Daily vlogs are a slippery slope that leads to the unquenchable thirst for more content, but Kris has been pretty good about sticking to a biweekly schedule. He uploads on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with just enough clickbait to be tasteful. With the occasional weekend upload of something either completely random or promoted ( _IS THIS MASCARA REALLY SEX-PROOF??_ comes to mind. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t). Apparently, this week’s edition of _Slapdash Saturdays_ is _MY BOYFRIEND THINKS WE’RE LIVING WITH A GHOST!_ , insert several scream emojis. “You are… _so_ annoying,” Junmyeon sighs. Kris is _actually_ going to monetize his boyfriend’s greatest fears. Capitalism at its worst.

“Look at it this way,” Kris chirps, holding up the camera so that they’re both in the shot. “Either outcome is a win-win — a Sicheng, if you will — for both of us! If we get evidence of your ghost cat, you get to prove me wrong, and I get to learn something new. If we don’t, I’ll be right, and you can be reassured that we aren’t living in a haunted house.

  
“Oh, by the way — hey, what’s up, you guys? It’s me, ya boy Kris, and Junmyeon thinks we’re living in a haunted house.” Kris smacks his chest twice with his fist and flashes the camera a shaka. “So, last week, we showed you guys this dope ass house we just bought, but now we — Junmyeon, really — have some _suspicions_ that we’ve got a supernatural infestation. _I_ think it’s a ghost cat. What do you think, babe?”

“Fuck you.” Not angry, just a little exasperated. Loving enough for Kris to giggle and kiss his temple. But also forceful enough that Kris recognizes he needs some TLC after he puts the camera down several hours of rambling later. Kris’s ability to alternate between obtuse and sensitive is kind of a lifesaver. It puts them in situations like this, with romantic music Junmyeon curated (because if it were up to Kris, they’d be bumping uglies to The Weeknd and The Weeknd only), sensual lighting, and Kris pressing soft, teasing kisses down the column of his throat.

They needed this, really. Demon-ghost-cat-related strife aside, the move in and of itself was stressful enough. Living together in Kris’s pretty-large two bed, two bath apartment was different. They had been there for three years. Figuring out the logistics of porting Kris’s useless crap up a huge hill and realizing they’d picked the busiest weekend and they’d have to move everything alone left little time or energy for sweet, sweet love-making.

“What are you thinking about?” Kris asks breathlessly, pecking the tip of Junmyeon’s nose. He looks boyish with his temptingly soft cropped black hair.

Junmyeon leans up to kiss him. “Your arm flab, mainly.”

Releasing a scandalized gasp, Kris rears back onto his haunches. Junmyeon laughs and rubs Kris’s upper arms. He didn’t mean to be a total mood killer; it was only a joke. But Kris has always been vain — even painfully so — and it takes a spattering of kisses all over his face and down both of his arms to comfort him. Getting Kris’s shirt off makes it easy to forget that there was otherworldly activity he was actively ignoring. Getting his own clothes off eliminates any thought of the ghost.

This was perhaps his greatest mistake. As if realizing the pair were actively ignoring it, the poltergeist decided to throw a little tantrum. Precipitated by a violent shaking, every door in the house (or so it sounds like) swings open and slams shut. Suffice to say, it puts an end to any sexy-times the loving couple had been planning to have. Not that Kris would’ve been keen on putting his dick anywhere near Junmyeon after that earsplitting shriek.

“Jesus Christ!” Kris yelps, covering his ears and he leaps away from the younger. He has the gall to look annoyed, rubbing his temples also with the pads of his fingers. “What are you, part dolphin?”

  
“The _doors_ , Kris!” Junmyeon yells. He probably looks like a madman, bloodshot eyes wide and arms moving in exaggerated, staccatic gestures. “They just — ngh! And then they — _whoooosh_ , BANG! They just — whoaaa, and then BOOM, and, and, and doors don’t _do_ that, Kris! Not all at once, and definitely not all by themselves! I _told_ you, Kris. I _told_ you there was some Satanic shit going on here — how else do you explain that _murder pit_ in the basement and the _murder closet_ just over there? There’s probably hundreds of bodies in here, all of them harboring ghosts that are suffering from post-mortem blue balls and who are very angry that we were just about to _fuck_ —”

Kris covers his mouth with a hand. “Just relax,” he says before leading Junmyeon through a couple of breathing exercises. Apparently confident that Junmyeon isn’t about to break into hysterics again, Kris releases him. “It was probably an earthquake or something. We’ve been feeling tremors all day, right? There was one when you threatened me with my own sword, so… It was probably like a… pre-shock or whatever for this big one.” He climbs out of bed, chuckling as Junmyeon grabs his wrist.

“W-where are you going?” Junmyeon is not at all ashamed by the tremble in his voice. This is some scary ass shit, dude.

Kris covers his hand with his own. “I’m just gonna go check and see if anything’s broken. Maybe take a peek at the cameras. If there really _is_ a ghost, it might’ve… I don’t know, shart-manifested itself with the amount of work it took to slam every door at once.”

“ _Shart-manifested_? Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Steeling himself, Junmyeon plucks his shirt from the floor and pulls it over his head. He’s otherwise still naked, but he doesn’t feel as exposed as he previously was. “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re forcing me to come with you —”

An incredulous scoff. “I’m not forcing you to do _anything_ —”

“— because God knows _somebody_ has to stop you from getting yourself killed by a poltergeist.” He grabs the comforter for extra protection and wraps himself up in it. Gesturing expectantly at the currently closed bedroom door, he raises his brows. “Well?”

Kris, as expected, rolls his eyes and opens the door. Junmyeon trails a good distance behind him. He’s not about to get caught up in his boyfriend’s bullshit if Kris bullies the entity into murder no matter what he just said. Yeah, he loves Kris more than anything else in the world, but Junmyeon’s also not in any hurry to _die_. Besides, he’d get over Kris eventually. (Actually, if he was being honest, he’d probably never move on. But that was neither here nor there and he didn’t feel like giving Kris that at the moment.)

Slowly, the pair makes their way through the areas where fragile objects were likely to fall. Nothing. If the cabinets holding their ceramic dining ware were roughed up, it was only by the slamming of the cabinet doors. The plates and bowls themselves were intact, just as the frames on their mantle. They also check the cameras, finding (according to Kris) nothing of note. No shart-manifestation as he’d predicted, but in Junmyeon’s opinion, the synchronized movement of every door and drawer in the house seemed like something to jot down.

Kris remained apathetic, shrugging on their way back to the bedroom. “If it wasn’t an earthquake, we must’ve just left a window open or something. You know how bad the winds can get as we get closer to November. Totally natural, see? Try me, demon! I don’t think you’re a real —”

Junmyeon lets out a shriek as Kris flies into the wall. “Oh my God!” he cries, rushing over to his boyfriend. “Are you okay?”

Kris rubs the back of his head with a groan. He doesn’t seem too shaken up, frowning as if he’s confused rather than terrified. “Yeah. Like… like that. That’s what I call a fucking _breeze_ , dude.”

…

Forget what Junmyeon said about Kris being both obtuse and sensitive. Ever since that first night, he’s been nothing but the former. Not when it comes to romantics — and those are few and far between — but with respect to the _being_ that they are clearly living with. It isn’t as though they’re assailed with paranormal activity every single day, but it’s also not like one can just _forget_ that they were flung across a hallway, or that they witnessed their boyfriend being flung across a hallway. Kris deliberately tries to find the most outrageous ways to explain away the supernatural phenomena the couple come across. Junmyeon can only imagine the concussion Kris refuses to get checked out only makes matters worse. He’s lucky Junmyeon’s so smitten with him.

It’s been two weeks, and for people who work at home, it feels like an _eternity_. They use (or at least, Junmyeon uses) the weekly vlogs as an excuse to leave the house, but they are usually shut in until they go to buy groceries on the weekends. To their immense luck, the ghoul apparently has a conscience. Junmyeon has conducted four phone interviews and two Skype ones without any sort of interference, and Kris’s makeup reviews have gone off without a hitch. Whatever’s coexisting with them hasn’t done anything to compromise their livelihoods, but Junmyeon hardly sees that as a positive. It might just be plotting to keep them there by luring the two into a false sense of security. Well. One of them isn’t fooled.

The other one is bullshitting himself into denial.

letters traced on a fogged up mirror reading “ _Get the hell out_ ”? Oh, what a funny prank he forgot he ever played!

Creaking from the ceiling? Just some fat rats walkin’ around. “Ratatouille and shit, y’know, babe?”

And, of course, the ever-popular earthquake excuse. Yes, they live in California, but the frequency of these supposed tremors would absolutely give seismologists reason to investigate.

Oh, what’s that? There’s more? It’s just obnoxious kids breathing into untraceable calls. And they’ve left one (or seven) window(s) open _once again_ , and that’s why their books are all over the floor.

(Kris has yet to come up with anything for the self-strumming guitar. Junmyeon’s been waiting for forty-eight hours.)

The latest evidence is Kris’s own fault. His hubris was always going to be his downfall. Icarus has flown too close to the sun. It has, after all, been two days since anything freaky happened. Clearly, that’s invitation to shout randomly, “There’s no ghost. If there is, _kick me in the nuts, spirit_!”

Junmyeon is not the slightest bit surprised when Kris doubles over in pain, clutching at his balls. He deserved it. And Junmyeon tells him as much.

“Balls must’ve got caught in my zipper,” Kris wheezes. He’s red in the face. Junmyeon can’t bring himself to sympathize.

“You’re wearing sweatpants,” Junmyeon tells him instead, one hundred percent sincere.

“Huh… So I _am_.”

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Junmyeon picks up his phone. “That’s it. I’m calling Minseok’s exorcist friend. How long are you gonna drag this out for? One day, you’re going to ask it to tear out your heart and eat it and it’s going to take you up on that. Like _hell_ am I gonna just sit by and watch that happen.”

“Hey!” Kris leaps up, scrambling to where Junmyeon stands and grabbing his hands. He looks serious for once. Figures that he’d sober up once money was involved. “‘Myeon, the guy’s consultation fees are a thousand dollars _alone_. I know your cousin has a lot of weird friends, but let’s just _think_ about it first.”

“I _have_ been thinking about this.” Kris yelps as Junmyeon flicks his forehead. “I’ve spent the last fourteen days tolerating this _presence_ in our home because you apparently think it’s _so fun_ to taunt it. And, despite your vehement denials of its existence, it literally _just_ kicked you in the balls because you asked it to. So if I have to spend over a thousand dollars to get rid of it —”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa —”

“Don’t ‘ _whoa_ ’ me!”

  
“I didn’t say anything.” Kris swallows roughly, then points to a spot somewhere behind Junmyeon. “Holy _shit_.”

If he weren't so frustrated, Junmyeon might have fainted. Instead, he just rubs his forehead as soon as he sees the transparent man standing in the middle of his house. Or floating, really. The ghost is a handsome young man, probably early-twenties, dressed in incredibly outdated (but also painfully familiar to Junmyeon) clothes from the turn of the century. His hands are raised in surrender, brows lifted. “ _Shit_ , man. Don’t spend a grand on me,” the ghost says. “I’m nowhere near worth that much. Fuck, I’ probably cheaper than a burger at In-N-Out. Animal style, of course.”

Junmyeon covers his face with his hands and screams.

Ten minutes later, he’s calmed down enough to hold a decent conversation with the ghost. Kris, ever the curious one, had been chatting animatedly with him while Junmyeon recovered from his catatonia. Kris leans in charitably as if he’s filling Junmyeon in to the latest juicy gossip. “So, his name’s Tao, he died in 1998, and he’s a Taurus.”

“I like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain,” Tao deadpans. At Junmyeon’s nonplussed look, he flushes and turns his gaze downward. He looks really young, bags under his eyes aside. Tao has relatively smooth flesh and a thin but well-sculpted body buried under outrageously-late-nineties attire. If put into something more form-fitting and modern, he’d be really attractive. Oh — if he were corporeal too, it’d really up the _wow_ factor of his natural beauty. But the glow is nice, too. Really eye-catching.

“Gonna need more than that,” Junmyeon says. He turns to Kris. “Did you pester him about the science of his condition and get nowhere as a result?” Yep. Sheepish look says it all. “Everyone knows that ghosts don’t actually know crap about being ghosts unless they’re _nerds_. You’re not a _nerd_ , are you, Tao?”

“Oh, _God_ , no.”

Kris pouts. “I’d dare to say that people who believe in and know way too many things about ghosts are the real nerds.” He goes ignored.

“Getting back on topic,” Junmyeon says, squeezing Kris’s knee, “I guess the best place to start is… who are you? Besides what Kris has already said, which is the bare minimum.”

Tao clears his throat and rubs his hands together. He takes a seat on the armchair across from the couch Kris and Junmyeon are sitting on. Well, he more or less floats an inch above it in a sitting position. Junmyeon appreciates the attempt at normalcy. “Exposition time?” He shrugs. “Guess I might as well. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about myself since I died, actually. Huh.” It sounds a lot like he’s stalling, and the way he rubs his hands on the tops of his thighs confirms Junmyeon’s suspicions.

“Um,” he starts, and Junmyeon begins to feel a little bad for putting Tao on the spot like this. He tries an encouraging smile, which Tao seems to appreciate. “My full name is Zitao Huang. I was born on May 2, 1973. My girlfriend murdered me on January 30, 1998, and buried me in the backyard of this house. As for the in-between stuff, I guess I was your average rich kid. Dad was grooming me to take over his company in, like, five years, but that clearly… didn’t happen. Oh — also, my girlfriend was a con who killed me for my money.

“And I’ve been stuck here ever since. Being a ghost with no apparent purpose gets boring, so I like to mess around with the people who live here.” He snickers. “I gotta say, Kris here is the first skeptic to ask me to kick him in the balls.”

Sitting up straighter, the man actually preens. “I’m nothing if not daring.”

“More like stupid.” Junmyeon rolls his eyes.

“Fair enough.”

Tao nods sharply and then spreads his hands. “That’s basically the super-abridged version of my life and afterlife. Twenty-four years of… _enh_ choices and twenty more of… pranking mostly-innocent people.” He wrinkles his nose. “That’s so sad. I’m _so sad_.”

Junmyeon successfully bites back the urge to agree. There’s a slight twinge of sympathy, held back by one or two questions that he recognizes are rather self-centered. He feels for Tao, really, he does. He can’t imagine what it’s like to have the person you love turn on you like that; Kris would _never_ — at least, Junmyeon hopes so. And it must really suck to be stuck in one place for two decades. But Tao’s also kind of a squatter. There are better ways to phrase it, though. “There’s… there’s no way for you to, like… _pass on_?” Hopefully, Junmyeon’s big hand gestures will cover up how rude he finds himself. “Like, you _seem_ like a decent enough guy. Pranks aside, you don’t seem like a bad person. The circumstances of your death are pretty shitty. So, all of those things combined, wouldn’t you, like, ascend or something? float up into the pearly gates and whatnot?” He ignores the incredulous look Kris throws him.

Vindication comes in the form of Tao’s slow nod. “I’ve known a few guys in my time who’ve been lucky enough to actually make it to the Other _Other_ Side. Apparently, it has to do with having ‘unfinished business,’ or whatever. I never experienced a certain integral part of my life, so I’m stuck here until I do, whatever it may be. Believe me, I’d like to get out of here as much as you want me to leave —” Junmyeon blushes and ducks his head. “— but since I don’t know what that _special thing_ is, I’m just kind of… trapped.” Tao shrugs, a blatantly helpless movement. Now Junmyeon feels like an _asshole_. Must be the sex-deprivation.

  
“We’ll help you,” Junmyeon says, momentarily forgetting Tao is basically air when he reaches out to touch the back of his hand. He goes through him. Tao’s ghost-innards are very cold. “Not just ‘cause we want you out of the house — we would love to have the place all to ourselves, but it’s… it’s also the right thing to do.” If _he_ were a ghost, Junmyeon would do everything in his power to help him move on. But he hasn’t thought of _him_ in years and he would currently rather not do so.

An arched brow expresses Tao’s skepticism plainly while Kris, having had six years to become attuned to Junmyeon’s ticks and expressions of despair, rubs his neck soothingly. “What makes you think you can?” Tao asks slowly. “I’ve been trying for twenty years to leave this plane of existence. And lo and behold, you’re just going to waltz up and fix everything?”

It’s a good question. One that Junmyeon doesn’t have an answer to. He didn’t exactly have any supernatural knowledge to bring to the table. He was a believer, sure, but he was likely going to end up Googling everything before consulting Actual Ghost Zitao Huang.

Sensing his hesitation, Kris leans closer and squeezes Junmyeon’s hip. “Well… if there’s anyone in the world who can accomplish anything, it’s Junmyeon Kim.”

Tao just stares at them. None of them say anything. Then: “You two are gross, y’know that? That’s why I never let you have sex.” But the ghost is smiling. They take it as an accomplishment.

…

Being so young (though he could easily be either of their fathers if he was still alive), there are a whole host of things Zitao never got to experience. He was never financially independent from his family, never had a job, and — most surprising of all — never graduated high school.

“Dad pulled me out to start my business school education _early_ ,” the specter had explained with a shrug. Clearly, he didn’t seem too bothered by this turn of events.

“How far did you get before you dropped out?” Kris had asked.

“Uh… The _second_ one.”

“… Sophomore year?”

“Sure!”

So, that was a bust.

Inability to differentiate grades aside, Tao really is a bright kid. He’s sharp and wry and biting, unwilling to take Kris’s shit, and brimming with what Junmyeon’s psychologist brother would refer to as ‘unfulfilled potential.’ As if the similarities between the ghost and a certain someone weren’t enough. That’s probably why Junmyeon takes to Tao like a bear to honey. He’s always been soft like that.

Kris, on the other hand, is less indulgent. Junmyeon knows him well enough to recognize that he actually likes Tao but isn’t comfortable enough with him to express this in any way but relentless mockery. But at least he cares enough to openly help Tao move on.

Unfortunately for them, every single theory yielded similar results to the education one. It wasn’t like handing Tao half of their emergency fund was going to be particularly effective, but Junmyeon _swore_ having Zitao proofread his article and operate Kris’s camera as he opened fan-mail should’ve done _something_. Some people might disagree on the nature of the work, but Tao _was_ technically working them. A job was what they were going for. But maybe it wasn’t life experiences as a quantifiable concept. Maybe they needed to think in abstracts.

Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

What little research Junmyeon and Kris did claimed that the situation surrounding Tao’s death likely informed his circumstance as a ghost. And although he knew it was a difficult thing to recall, knowing who killed him and why was their best bet on trying to help Tao move on.

“It’s fine,” the ghost says when Junmyeon brings this idea up. Suffice to say, the latter doesn’t believe him. Tao waves his concerns off with a hand. “I know, I’m a Taurus and we tend to hold grudges. But I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with what happened. Brianna played a long game — gotta respect her for that. I was young and naïve and I played right into her hands for two years. I guess she got sick of waiting for me to marry her or something. If I did, she could’ve kept siphoning my money non-lethally and I wouldn’t be here right now.

“But I just… couldn’t, y’know? Like, I’d look at her and wonder, ‘Is that really who my future is?’ We were together for a long time, sure, but it seemed like we started off for all the wrong reasons. It was pretty shallow. We met at a party — both of us got red drinks spilled on our shirts and we found each other at least mildly attractive. One thing led to another and then another and we ended up living together in this house. Towards the end, she started dropping obvious hints about marriage, but I wasn’t ready. I don’t think I loved her, so I… yeah.”

Oh. Well. Wasn’t that obvious?”

“I don’t know why it never occurred to me earlier…,” Junmyeon mutters, mostly to himself. Tao, who (despite all his promises that he felt fine and was over it all) had started to slouch, perks up. “You would think a diehard romantic such as myself would’ve suggested it earlier, but I guess I was trying too hard to think outside of the box. Lesson learned: my instincts are usually correct.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Tao says, leg jiggling, “but do you mind catching me up here?”

“You’ve never been in love, have you?” It was the only explanation. Though he had been murdered for his wealth, what Tao was most concerned with prior to his death was love. Contemplating then on whether he was with someone he truly cared for, Tao was trying to figure out what he wanted in a relationship. And judging by the current furrow of his brows, Junmyeon was correct about Tao’s lack of romantic prowess. “What we need to do is find you a ghost girlfriend!”

(“Or ghost boyfriend,” Kris calls from the bathroom.)

Which is, as expected, something easier said than done.

But the good thing is that they’re in Los Angeles, a city with many people and just as many ghosts. Kris was tickled pink at the prospect of setting Tao up with Elizabeth Short, which the ghost had balked at. Junmyeon had no idea he was dating a matchmaker, but it did shed some light on his insistence that Junmyeon’s cousin Minseok meet his friend Lu Han. Mega YouTube star Kris Wu is a regular Cupid — who’d’ve thunk?

“So, I’m pretty sure the government’s got me on all sorts of watchlists because of my search history,” Kris says, pecking the side of Junmyeon’s head as he slides onto a stool in front of the kitchen island. “But I promise I’m not gonna kill Junmyeon, so.” He peeks at his Amazon Echo sitting plaintively on the coffee table. “Yea hear, Jeff Bezos? I’m a good boyfriend. I have no intention of murdering the love of my life.”

“Thank you,” Junmyeon chuckles as Tao rolls his eyes.

“Anywho,” Kris drawls, “to get back to the task at hand, I’ve compiled a list of places where other single-and-ready-to-mingle ghosts are likely to be.” He lugs his MacBook (which continues to mesmerize Tao no matter how much time Kris spends editing and responding to business emails) onto the island and begins to scroll through a very annotated Google Doc.

Junmyeon rests his chin on Kris’s shoulder. “Did you just Google places where lovers have either killed each other or themselves?”

  
Kris makes a noise of offense — it’s not denial. “Well, _yes_ ,” he pouts, drawing out the vowel in the second word, “but I consulted a medium, too. A cheap one at that. She was pretty insistent that ‘ _All spirits are evil, you shouldn’t be helping one, waaah_ ,’ but, like, whatever, right? As soon as I paid her, she was all too eager to help me narrow it down to five sexy spirits. Go figure!” Wiggling his caterpillar brows at Tao, he turns the computer around so the ghost can look. He’s careful to keep it out of Tao’s reach; they learned the hard way that he makes stuff go haywire with just a touch. “Yang Mi’s fuckin’ _hot_ , huh?”

…

“He’s a child,” says Yang Mi as soon as they explain to her what their deal is. Tao looks like he was expecting that answer. “I’m not going to fuck a child.”

“We’re not asking you to _fuck_ him,” Kris protests. “We’re asking you to _love_ him.” Junmyeon cannot fathom how he could possibly think that’s any better.

Rather than dignify that with a response, Yang Mi evaporates into thin air. Junmyeon can’t blame her.

“Oh, okay!” Kris shouts at the spot where she used to be, looking quite like a Caucasian parent and a crazy person. Or maybe a Baby Boomer. Those three tended to blend together in Junmyeon’s head. “You’re just gonna _fade away_ like an _Infinity War_ character? Not even giving us the courtesy of a no? That’s rude! Think of how Tao feels!” Not that his words would have any effect on her. She’s been gone for a good minute or so.

Unfortunately, Yang Mi’s cold reception sets a precedent for the four others that they had yet to visit. After realizing the reason why pretty young lady Caiyu slowly backed away was because Junmyeon and Kris seemed like overeager parents trying to get their son a prom date, they decided to remove themselves and let Tao venture out himself. Kris and Junmyeon’s first meeting was pretty serendipitous, after all. (If one could call a drunken hookup at a mutual friend’s birthday party _serendipitous_.) Sometimes true love can’t be manufactured.

But after a month of zero results, Junmyeon almost wants to tear his hair out. When he asked Tao what exactly he was saying to advertise himself, all he’d received as a response was a muffled, “I’m just a ghost with low self-esteem!”

It was only a matter of time before they accept that all three of them will be living together indefinitely. Wang Dalu was their last hope, but he was allegedly fulfilling his duty of taking care of his younger brother Ziyi and making sure the kid stayed out of trouble. He was flattered, apparently, so they just have to wait for Ziyi to die. Or something. Ziyi was born in 1996, so Kris and Junmyeon are almost certainly not going to outlive him.

But Kris, bless his heart, still has a solution to pull out of his ass. Junmyeon hadn’t expected it to be such a _dick move_ , though.

Prefaced by, “Hey, baby,” Junmyeon figured it was just one of his wacky schemes. Kris has always been affectionate, so Junmyeon thinks nothing of the arm wrapped around his waist or the peck to his temple. Tao is nowhere to be seen, evidently still sulking after Dalu’s sort-of rejection. The lovers have had tiny handfuls of alone time since Tao’s discovery; it just so happens Kris wishes to use this occasion to offer… unsavory ideas. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Did it hurt?” Only Kevin and Junmyeon are allowed to openly mock intellect, a privilege that the latter abuses endlessly. He presses a kiss to Kris’s jaw before going back to rereading his article.

“I’m being serious.” These three words alone give Junmyeon pause. Kris shifts, then takes Junmyeon’s hands, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. “I did some thinking like I said, and… what if Sehun’s still… uh, around? If he was still… here, he’d be a little younger than Tao. I heard that people who passed young can sometimes age, so…” He’s very aware of the way Junmyeon tenses, given the way Kris reaches for him and tries to rub the stiffness out of his upper arms. “I know you don’t like to think about him, ‘Myeon, but from what you’ve told me, they seem like they could be pretty compatible. And apparently, the talk of the ghost town in recent years is that there’s a hot young guy that hangs out by the pier.”

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything. Whether it’s shock or rage, he isn’t quite sure. If Kris knows how much he’d dislike the idea, why’d he bring it up in the first place?

“It cost me an extra hundred bucks to pry that out of my medium pal,” Kris continues, apparently taking the silence as a green light for humor.

Finding his voice, Junmyeon scoffs. “Are you _shitting_ me?” Kris raises his hands and backs away slightly. “You’re really going to sit here and tell me you want to use my brother’s ghost to get rid of the one living in our house? Sehun isn’t your _pawn_ , Kris. He’s… He’s —”

“ _Dead_ , Junmyeon,” Kris says. There’s a stubborn set to his brow. “It’s been ten years. And I could tell by the way you looked at Tao that you think of him as a replacement-Sehun. So if either of us is _using_ anybody, it’s you. I’m not trying to suggest anything outrageous, ‘Myeon. If anything, it would’ve been a win-win. A Sicheng, right?” At Junmyeon’s incredulous laugh, Kris pulls him in for a hug. “Tao gets to maybe fall in love. And Sehun would too. You and I can pretty confidently say that falling in love isn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, I’d say it’s one of the best things in the universe.”

Junmyeon shakes his head and opens his mouth to protest, but Kris cuts him off. “Do you have any objections _besides_ your inability to cope with your guilt over your brother’s death?” the elder asks. His tone isn’t sharp or rude, really, but Junmyeon would prefer this conversation stop here and just be shelved indefinitely. “Hm?”

But he doesn’t, not really. Junmyeon’s never had problems with looking at things objectively, and it’s only because Sehun’s involved that he’s so adamantly against this. He had no problems with trying to hook Tao up with Yang Mi, Caiyu, or Wang Dalu among others, and they too still had living relatives, so it was pretty hypocritical of him to reject Tao on Sehun’s behalf. And the last thing Junmyeon wanted to be was a hypocrite.

“Whoa,” says Tao, making Kris and Junmyeon’s heads shoot in his direction. “Shit go _heavy_ while I was gone. What happened?”

Kris inhales slowly, likely about to come up with a clever quip. Junmyeon beats him to the punch. “How do you feel about a trip to Santa Monica Pier?”

“The beach?” Tao asks, perking up in a way so similar to Sehun that it almost hurts. “Hell yeah! When are we going?”

…

Junmyeon gives the excuse of needing a week because of the upcoming California elections or whatever, but it’s really because he needs a week to psych himself up. That’s what happens when you can’t deal with your grief properly, kids! At least he manages to keep his word, though. Kris looks at him with such pride, but Junmyeon doesn’t feel like he deserves it. If he developed better coping mechanisms than avoidance and dark humor, he wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

“Hey,” Tao says quietly, seated in the back even though he doesn’t really need a chair. “So… I hear that I remind you of your brother?”

Junmyeon throws a sharp look at Kris, who keeps his eyes trained on the road as he grips the steering wheel loosely at 10 and 2.

“He didn’t say anything,” Tao defends. “You two were kind of loud. And the emotional disturbance was kind of hard to ignore, especially from a couple who’s usually so chill and happy.” He taps his fingers on the back of Junmyeon’s chair as the ocean draws closer. The moon hangs high in the sky, the separation of sea and sand rather difficult to make out from the distance. Word has it that Sehun only comes out at night. As if Junmyeon needed to feel even worse about it all.

“Yeah, you do,” Junmyeon says eventually. “I guess that’s part of the reason I want to help you get to the Other Side. If I couldn’t help him, then you’re…”

“The next best thing,” Tao finishes. He lapses into silence, leaning back in his chair. Junmyeon is momentarily afraid that he’s hurt Tao’s feelings, but then the ghost speaks up. “Is he the guy we’re going to go see?”

“Yep. Sehun Oh. My little half-brother.”

“Can’t wait to meet him. He must be a great guy if _I_ remind you of him.”

The rest of the drive, another good seven minutes, is silent. Kris parks the car near the shoreline and reaches across the console to squeeze Junmyeon’s hand. “You ready?” he asks softly. It’s at times like this, when Kris is so attentive to his every movement, that Junmyeon appreciates him most. It’s hard to believe brother-killer Junyeon deserves someone as selfless, tender, and loving as Kris Wu. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says for what seems to be the umpteenth time. Readying himself, he unbuckles his seatbelt, steps out of the Rolls Royce, and pulls his jacket tighter around himself. He takes Kris’s offered hand, Tao already toddling down to the water. As Kris scans the shoreline for their target, Junmyeon scuffs his feet on the pavement. Does he _need_ to be here? Tao can probably find ghosts better than either of them, and Junmyeon is definitely the last person Sehun would want to see —

“Is that him? I think that’s him.” On instinct, Junmyeon looks over to where Kris is pointing. A tall young man stands ankle-deep in water, staring out into the open ocean. “Unless that’s just a big, glowing hobo. Does your brother’s ghost look like a hobo? Hobos wouldn’t stand in freezing cold water, right?”

It’s a valiant effort, Kris. Junmyeon _almost_ cracks a smile. And he might have, had he not been preoccupied with staring at the man his baby brother should have become. Sehun’s tall. Of course, he’s tall. His father was gargantuan, unlike Junmyeon’s father and their petite shared mother.

He’s still wearing the black T-shirt and Batman trunks he had drowned in. Hair still cropped short, beaded friendship bracelet still tied around his wrist. Junmyeon wonders if it’s still on the actual cadaver. They never recovered it, after all. “Yeah. yeah, it sure looks like him.” Sehun turns, and Junmyeon has to look away. Seeing his face more clearly, it’s apparent that he’s startlingly handsome. Not that Junmyeon expected any differently. The brothers that lived were always popular because of their looks.

“You okay?” Kris murmurs just as Sehun calls, “Hyung!”

Is it too late to run away? He’s got stubby legs, but he could get pretty far on those nubs alone. Except, at least based on Zitao, ghosts can teleport, so running would probably be futile on top of being rude. But since when did Junmyeon ever care about — oh, Sehun’s already walked over.

“Hyung,” Sehun says, voice way deeper than the thirteen-year-old, prepubescent squeak Junmyeon recalls. “You… why are you here?”

Well, he can’t very well say “Ghost matchmaking,” can he?

“What?”

Shit.

“Uh, hi,” Kris says. “his hand twitches, the vestiges of an aborted movement to shake the ghost’s hand. “I’m Kris, Junmyeon’s boyfriend.”

Sehun blinks and looks between the two. “What happened to Jisoo?”

“We broke up.” _That_ , Junmyeon intended to say. With how heavy his tongue felt, it was a miracle that the words even left him. “Ater you… y’know. It wasn’t like we were gonna be able to recover from that. I mean, we got —” He blinks. Where’s a good distraction when he needs one? “Oh, look! Here’s Tao! Hey, Tao! Sehun, Tao, Tao, Sehun. You guys should date.” Nice one, Junmyeon. Nailed it!

“Hello,” Tao says slowly, painfully aware of the awkwardness. He glances at Junmyeon, then turns to smile at Sehun, who mouths, “Ghost matchmaking?” Unlike Kris, Tao is able to actually touch Sehun. Despite all of his confusion, Sehun returns the shake with as much vigor. “ I’m Tao. The ghost that’s living with your brother and his boyfriend.”

“I see,” Sehun mutters. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So… Did he come see me just because of you?”

Tao’s eyes widen, and he waves his hands quickly. “No! Well, kind of? He didn’t know you existed until I showed up, and when he found out about you, the first thing he wanted to do was come see you.” He’s a better liar than Kris, who clicks his tongue every few words as if he’s vocalizing his buffering. “Is that the impression he gave you? What a dumbass.”

He’s right, but he shouldn’t say it.

“Right,” Sehun’s brow arches in skepticism. “I’m glad you tagged along to clear things up.”

“Yeah,” Tao says, grinning. Something protective in Junmyeon flares as Tao sizes Sehun up, gaze traveling from Sehun’s bare feet to the top of his head. Sehun himself notices this, cheeks coloring. It’s hard to imagine someone so blatantly flirty got rejected by five different ghosts. Apparently, it just took the right person to bring out the charmer in Tao. Tao glances at Junmyeon, then gently takes Sehun’s elbow. “he had this whole big speech planned for you, but I guess he just forgot when he saw you. Can’t blame him. How about you and I just take a walk and I can catch you up?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Junmyeon blurts, startling Kris. He doesn’t know if the out he’s been given is on his behalf or for Tao’s own benefit, but he takes it anyway. “You guys, I’m cold, and it’s super late, and I’m… really tired. But Tao’s great. And will probably give a more coherent overview than I could, so I’ll just…” Before anybody else can speak, Junmyeon marches back to the car, kicking sand everywhere as he goes.

The next morning, Tao says that he thinks Sehun likes him. They’ve made plans to meet up soon. “He’d also like to see you too,” Tao says, judgment overflowing in his tone. “Because you’re, like, y’know, his brother.”

…

“You’re sad,” Kris says in a stunning display of his intellect. Oh, that isn’t fair to him. Sometimes (all of the time) Junmyeon had the tendency to evade confrontation through semantics, so it was best to pin him down with blunt (if simple) statements. Kris is smart. Kris is _so_ smart. It’s one of the things Junmyeon loves about him most. “I don’t like it when you’re sad. I want you to be happy all the time. But you’re _very_ sad right now. And you’re sad ‘cause of the Taohun situation —”

“The what?”

“Taohun. Portmanteau couple names have been the rage since the earliest days of _Star Trek_ fanfiction. Get with the program, ‘Myeon.” Kris smacks Junmyeon’s thigh, nudging him over so that he can climb into their bed and spoon him in one clean motion. “Talk to me, baby.” He presses a kiss to the back of Junmyeon’s neck and toys with the hem of his wifebeater. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Junmyeon sighs. Where to start? Drawing Kris’s arm over his abdomen, he hums quietly. “It’s all kinds of fucked, you know? The only reason I went to see him was because of Tao. And, like, yeah, I couldn’t have known he existed until Tao confirmed that ghosts were real or that he was still sticking around until your… medium friend mentioned him, but… I had seven days to go on my own. To talk to him on my own, without the cloud of _Oh, yeah, I’m basically setting him up with our house ghost_ , and I… I didn’t.” He turns to bury his face into Kris’s chest. “I’m a shitty brother. It wasn’t enough that I let him drown, I had to go and do _this_ after he already _died_.”

Kris tsks and presses his nose into the crown of Junmyeon’s head. “It’s not an excuse, but… you never really got over it, did you?” His arms wrap around Junmyeon cocooning him in comfort and reassurance. “You never coped, and your parents didn’t really help matters. Your brother tried, but… You never came to terms with Sehun’s death and so your immediate reaction was to shut down and avoid everything to do with him. It’s not a justification, but it’s somewhere to start. And honestly, this is something you should be talking to Sehun about. I’m just here for you to bounce ideas off of. And to love and support you because you’re an amazing person, Junmyeon, and I consider myself very lucky to call you my boyfriend.”

“At least _somebody_ thinks so,” Junmyeon murmurs. He purses his lips, an invitation Kris accepts readily and with verve. “I love you too, Poopy.”

“I love you more, Anus.”

Junmyeon doesn’t realize that that night is the first time they’ve slept together in a long time — not until he catches Tao popping in and out of the living room like a not-blue Nightcrawler. “Are you doing that on purpose, or is this like… a glitch in the Matrix?” he asks after Tao develops a particularly constipated look on his face on his eighth reappearance.

“A glitch in the what now?”

“Oh, right. It came out in 1999. My bad.” Cupping his chin in his hand, Junmyeon leans forward. “You good? It usually doesn’t take that much effort to manifest, does it?” Tao usually comes and goes as he pleases. The ghost’s half-squat and clenched fists are… disconcerting to say the least.

“No,” Tao answers, slowly straightening into a normal position. He moves carefully, as if any sudden jerk will have him poofing away again. “It’s been kind of wonky, lately. I’m not tapped into the, I don’t know how to put it, _empathy network_ of the house anymore. The only reason I know you two screwed is ‘cause of the condom in the trash. Not the prickly ‘ _let’s have sex feelings_ ’ that usually gross me out.” He pauses, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and clears his throat. “My relationship with your brother’s going pretty great, by the way. We like each other a lot.”

“That’s good.” Unsure of how to respond, that’s all that Junmyeon offers.

“I think that’s part of why it’s so hard for me to stick around.” Tao smiles, almost a little rueful. Bittersweet. “I _really_ , _really_ like him. It’s not… weird for you, right? Me talking about Sehun like this with you?” It is, considering Sehun was thirteen when he died and the brothers never discussed liking people as a concept, let alone crushes. But Junmyeon nods anyway, because he’s almost certain that it was his poor skills as an older brother that prevented such conversations from occurring in the first place. “I know it hasn’t been very long, but… I don’t know. I’ve never been in love before, so I have nothing to compare this —” He gestures vaguely to his chest. “— to. What’s… what’s it like for you and Kris?”

Wow. A super loaded question. Letting out a long exhale, Junmyeon rubs his palms together. “Well, I don’t know about _Kris_ , but…” He can’t help but chuckle. It’s a bit of an awkward topic, making him feel almost like a father talking to his son. Or maybe like he’s talking to a little brother. “For me, he makes my chest feel really full. Knowing Kris is nearby gets me all… I dunno, _aflutter_. We’ve been together way longer than you and Sehun have even known each other, so… It’s kind of difficult to quantify.

“But I look at Kris and I see… everything. I see how funny and compassionate and understanding he is. I see how he likes to eat pizza with chopsticks, his brand new verbal tic of clicking his tongue every so often, the way his nose wrinkles every time I ask him to try eating fish. And I love him for all of it. I get this sort of buoyant feeling all over my body when I think of him. He’s an instant way to cheer me up, even when we’re upset at each other. I’m just rambling.” When doesn’t he? He’s more eloquent when he’s writing, not so much when he’s speaking. “But I think the gist is that I just feel this overwhelming fondness when I look at, hear, smell, touch, even _think_ about Kris. As cliché as it sounds, he makes me feel… complete.”

“No, no, no, no!” Tao says, so frantic that he flickers out of existence for a quick sentence. Though Junmyeon thinks his words were embarrassing and incomprehensible, Tao instead looks like he’s mulling them over. “It makes total sense. It makes a lot of sense, actually.”

“Good.”

Tao stares at him for a bit, then licks his lips. Smiling a little, he says, “You should talk to your brother.”

…

Junmyeon finally musters the courage to see Sehun, three days after convincing (read: verbally abusing) himself into doing so. It takes a lot of “don’t be stupid”s and “you’re really gonna let him down again, huh?”s until Junmyeon actually gets up off his ass and asks Kris for the keys to the Skyline. “Going to pick up Tao” is about as euphemistic as it gets, but Kris catches on quickly. Truthfully, he’d have no idea if Tao were there. The ghost doesn’t keep either Kris nor Junmyeon updated on his whereabouts, so it could stand to reason that Tao isn’t there at all. But it’s easier to say than “I’m going to confront my guilt over my half-brother’s death.”

It’s pure coincidence that Tao is, in fact, present at the pier when Junmyeon arrives. He’s the first of the two specters to notice him, holding Sehun’s hands as they sit in the sand. They’re close — definitely closer than friendly — and his head rests easily on Sehun’s shoulder as if it was meant to be there. Glancing up at him as Junmyeon gets closer, Tao alerts the younger to his brother’s presence with a gentle tap to the knee. He reluctantly untangles himself from Sehun and squints at Junmyeon, lips twitching. Every day, he seems less opaque, transparency growing by the hour. “It’s about time,” Tao drawls. “I should leave you two alone to talk.”

Sehun turns to look at him and a rush of coldness sweeps over Junmyeon’s body. He doesn’t look particularly enthusiastic about it, which activates Junmyeon’s “Oh shit, I fucked up” senses, but the elder convinces himself to stay. He’s got to. It’s the right thing, and — “Yeah, you probably should.” Oh. Sehun would’ve made a great adult, agreeing to do things he clearly doesn’t want to.

Tao fades away, and then it’s just Junmyeon and Sehun. And the awkward silence — hard to forget about _that_. Just sitting there, being unhelpful as fuck.

“So are you going to talk?” Sehun asks. “Or are you going to make something up and run away again?”

Junmyeon winces. “No, no, I’m just… Trying to figure out how to start.”

“Just go with the big speech Taotao said you had planned.”

Ooh. _Pet names_? They’re not close enough yet for Junmyeon to address them, which is a pity. But it’s Junmyeon’s fault, so he shouldn’t stand there and feel sorry for himself — and he’s getting off topic. Digging his nails into his palms, Junmyeon clears his throat. “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘I’m sorry.’ I am sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” Gritting his teeth, Junmyeon’s gaze falls to the ground. He should be talking to Sehun instead of the floor, but it’s too difficult to do so. “I’m a piece of shit who can’t do anything right. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m a fucked up person. And I’m so sorry that I let you die.” Words forced out, he looks up and is slightly taken aback by the shock splashed across Sehun’s features.

“What?”

“My utter ineptitude as an older brother lead to your death. It was all my fault. I dragged you out to the freezing cold beach because I lied to Mom and Dad saying that I was going to the movies when I was really going to drink with my friends on the beach. And then I left you unsupervised because I wanted to go canoodle with my boyfriend. And I left you with strangers, and then you drowned, so, yeah. All my fault.” Aw, crap. His eyes were watery. Using the sleeves of the sweatshirt he appropriated from Kris, Junmyeon swipes haphazardly at his face.

Sehun’s luminescence fills his view as the ghost steps closer, bending so that he can look Junmyeon in the eye. “Hyung, you…” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows roughly. “Did you blame yourself for this all this time?”

Junmyeon scoffs. “Who else could I have pointed fingers at? I was supposed to be responsible for you.”

“I went into the water by myself,” Sehun says slowly, like he’s talking to a child. Irony, please never stop kicking the crap out of Junmyeon Kim. “I was thirteen. I should’ve known better. And any of the dozen or so teenagers you left me with could’ve stopped me. The sober ones, anyway.”

“I was supposed to _take care of you_ ,” Junmyeon insists. “Mom entrusted you to me. Her _baby_. I was supposed to make sure that you stayed out of trouble, that you kept your grades up, that you lived a long and healthy life.” He shakes his head, a dark laugh threatening to burst out of his chest. “I fucked up so badly that I did the exact opposite.”

“Hyung,” says Sehun, pained. He turns to look at the empty space next to Junmyeon as if grasping for the words floating there .”Is that why Mom doesn’t talk to you anymore? … Tao told me. I ask after you a lot.” He chuckles quietly. “One time he asked me if we were dating just so I could get the insider scoop on your life. You should’ve seen the look on his face when I said yes. I was joking, of course.”

“I bet his eyes got all big,” Junmyeon says. “ _I knew it! you’re a damn scoundrel, Sehun Oh!_ ”

Sehun laughs fully then, shoulders shaking as he sits back down and pats the spot next to him. He nudges Junmyeon’s shoulder as the elder settle son the equally cold sand. “He doesn’t have much time left,” Sehun says softly. “His missing piece was falling in love with me for the first time. It’s a little surreal, considering the fact that I never held hands with a guy while I was alive, let alone roped one into falling in love with me.

“I’ve been a ghost for a while. Grew up around other ghosts who were people who got mugged, or who were unfortunate victims of car accidents. One time, I even found a guy who drowned, like me. He was on purpose, though. What was my point? Oh yeah — I watched many of them come and go after finding out the missing piece in their lives. This wasn’t the first time I’ve been the receiving end of one; there was a guy who never got to raise his kids and he moved on because he took care of little ghost me. For the longest time, I didn’t know what mine was.” Sehun rubs his thighs, a tic he picked up from his boyfriend. Junmyeon’s heart warms at the sight. “Tao told me that when you suggested love, it was like a switch had been flipped in him and he could feel just how… how _empty_ he was. And then he told me that I filled him up. Like a key into a lock. Falling in love with me completed him and set him free.”

“Have you figured out yours?”

As if it’s the simplest thing in the world: “I need to get you to forgive yourself.”

Both figuratively and literally, Junmyeon backs off. Impossible. “It’s a sweet sentiment,” he says, drawing his knees to his chest, “but I don’t see how that could happen. I want to help you, Sehun. But didn’t we already establish that the blame is completely on me? I can’t just… forgive myself for getting my half-brother killed.”

  
“We didn’t establish diddly squat,” Sehun quips at lightning speed. “ _I_ was just listening to you wallow in self-pity. If you asked me for _my_ opinion on the matter, I would’ve told you that I never blamed you. That when I was swept out to sea, all I could think of was how dumb I was to go swimming in the dark of night in a pitch black ocean. Of how the last thing I ever said to you was ‘Fuck off’ and how I should’ve told you that I thought you were really cool and the best older brother I could’ve asked for. Not once did it cross my mind to blame you for what happened. Why’s that? Because it wasn’t your fault. You made some poor choices, but there are a thousand different timelines in which I could’ve ended up in the water even if you didn’t sneak off with Jisoo. It just so happens that in this reality, you were gone.”

Junmyeon has to struggle to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Sehun… It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” Sehun shakes his head. “Strike that — I _know_ it’s hard. I get that. You spent the last ten years beating yourself up over this. But I promise that is the last thing I ever wanted you to do. You’re my favorite hyung. Super smart, super cool. Couldn’t you at least… try? For me?”

Could he? Sehun wasn’t asking him to erase the last decade of guilt in one fell swoop, and Junmyeon knew the value of working on things bit by bit, chipping away at mountains until they became pebbles. And this was (ostensibly) Sehun’s last request. If he couldn’t do anything substantial for him when he was alive, then Junmyeon could at least do this for him now. And if not for Sehun, then for Tao, who surely wanted his boyfriend to follow him into paradise or the set of _The Good Place_ or whatever. So he _could_ try. He could. Junmyeon inhales, holds the breath there, then exhales. “I will.”

Sehun’s grin is big enough to split his face in half. “Good. Now tell me about Kris. Tao says he’s good looking but mostly a complete _dweeb_.”

…

Goodbyes are always the worst. Junmyeon ends up a blubbering mess and Kris laughs at him before promptly bursting into tears too. That’s what happened when an intern named Hansol had moved onto bigger and better things and UpVote decided to throw him a going away party. And it’s even worse when it comes to Sehun and Tao because they’re, well… Sehun and Tao. And Junmyeon loves them so much he feels like his heart is going to burst. Kris, for all his previous exasperation, feels the same. Since their talk, Sehun had started hanging around the house more. To Kris’s absolute delight, Sehun turned out to be far less of a cockblock than Tao — though that might’ve been because he was too preoccupied with the other ghost to care about what Kris and Junmyeon got up to in their own time.

Rather quickly, though, Kris got attached. He treated Sehun with the same kindness and affection that he showed all of Junmyeon’s living relatives. His playful vitriol with Tao tapered off into begrudging fondness as it became more and more apparent that the latter wasn’t going to be around much longer.

And it all came to a head too quickly and in a painfully domestic setting, which only made it all worse. They were watching _The Matrix_ upon Sehun’s request when the two started to glow more than they usually did. It was bright, the kind of blinding that emanated from burning magnesium.

“What the hell,” Junmyeon says, even though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer because it seems like a pretty appropriate reaction. “What’s happening?”

Tao looks over at Sehun, squeezing his hand and rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

Sehun nods then turns to Junmyeon. “I’m proud of you.”

“Wait,” Junmyeon gasps, reaching out for his brother. Kris’s hand finds the small of his back. “Wait, this is too sudden. I’m not ready yet —”

“Yes, you are,” Sehun says quietly. His smile is all-knowing, the kind of maturity that exceeds his boyish looks and baby-round cheeks. He gets so bright that Junmyeon and Kris have to look away from the sheer intensity. “That’s why I can go — because you’ve finally allowed yourself to let me go.” And it’s the truth — after all, Sehun’s missing piece was Junmyeon’s guilt, and absolving him of it made Sehun’s soul whole again.

But it just felt like it was too _soon_. Junmyeon was just getting to know SEhun again. They were only just beginning to rebuild their family. He tries to hazard a glance between his fingers, but the light is too strong. The pearly gates are opening.

“Thank you,” Tao says, painfully sincere. The house is going to feel so empty without him rattling the pipes and drawing little stick figures on condensed or fogged up glass. “This wouldn’t have been possible without the two of you. I don’t think you need me to tell you this, but you’re both _good_ people. You’re _great_ people, and, as ominous as it sounds, I can’t wait to see the both of you on the Other Side, because if I know anyone who’s got a one-way ticket to the place where the good guys go, it’s you two. So, thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Kris says, apparently very choked up. Yep, just as Junmyeon expected. Once a crier, always a crier. The hand on Junmyeon’s back trembles as he tries to hold off the tears. “Fuck, there are so many _dust particles_ in my eyes!”

Sehun laughs, and Junmyeon savors it. “Thank you again. Really. We’ll be going now.”

And just like that, the brightness is gone.

They’re gone.

Kris lets out a shuddering breath, and Junmyeon launches himself into his boyfriend’s arms. They never end up finishing the movie.

What they do end up doing, though, is planting a garden on their property. It’s the cheapest memorial they can erect, but it requires the most work to maintain. Pink carnations for undying love and forget-me-nots for remembrance. Kris’s pollen allergy reminds him of its existence near constantly because of this little addition, but he refuses to get rid of it.

“It’s symbolic and pretty,” he says to Junmyeon, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Plus, I’m sure the boys love it a lot.”

“I think so too,” Junmyeon murmurs, happy that his brother and his boyfriend have found peace, and happy that he’s found the perfect home for himself and the love of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [jingukdoc](http://jingukdoc.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [wingsanaheim](http://twitter.com/wingsanaheim)


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